Angel Beats After Story: A Second Chance
by Nyanotic
Summary: The former members of the SSS have all graduated and passed on but what awaits them on the other side. What challenges will they face? Will they ever meet again? Will they ever be able to find happiness in such a cruel, unfair world? Rated T, may change in later chapters. ;)
1. Dear Yuzuru

**Hello readers, Nyanotic here. This will be my first fanfiction for Angel Beats. I have recently discovered that the first volume of the VN will be released in May. It was for that reason that I rewatched the Anime and after seeing the ending I thought to myself: "This needs an 'after story'." So I decided, why not have a go at it. Lemme' know of you love it or hate it.**

**Takes place after the events of the anime (After all of the original cast passes on).**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Angel Beats. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfics.**

* * *

**Angel Beats After Story: A Second Chance**

**Chapter 1: Dear Yuzuru**

_Angel._

_Why was that the first word to cross my mind?_

_Strange. Where am I?_

_Ah, that's more like it._

_It's dark, are my eyes closed? Probably. I feel strangely numb as well. Am I asleep? No it's probably painkillers, though I'm confused; why would I need to have taken painkillers._

_Damn, this makes no sense. Why can't I remember anything except..._

_Angel._

_It's a memory that's lingering somewhere in the hazy depths of my thoughts. It strains me to think about it, like I'm reaching out to it but it's floating just barely out of reach._

_Why? Why can't I remember?_

_..._

_Wait! That was it!_

_Damn! It was only a glimpse but it was there, if only for a second. Striking yellow eyes that shone brilliantly bathed in the sun's warm gaze; pools of liquid gold that captured me in their gentle aura. Silky, silver hair fluttering in the gentle afternoon breeze._

_An angel._

_My angel._

_Damn it, why can't I remember more? Curse this._

_..._

_Beep..._

_What was that? I could swear I just heard something, albeit rather quietly._

_..._

_..._

_Beep..._

_There it is again! If I focus enough, I can hear it._

_Beep..._

_..._

_Beep..._

_I keep hearing that sound, is it in my head? I don't think so. What could it be._

_Beep..._

_Beep..._

_Beep..._

_It's persistent, I'll admit that much._

_Beep..._

_Beep..._

_Hey, that's enough already. Shut up._

_Beep..._

_Beep..._

_Hey, can you hear me. I said shut up!_

_Beep..._

_Sounds like my alarm clock, a little. Wait... alarm? Could I be asleep right now? It doesn't feel like I'm sleeping. Come on eyes, open already._

_Open..._

* * *

His eyelids cracked open blearily as he stirred, snapping shut just as quickly in response to the blinding light streaming through the windows basking the room's white walls and reflecting sharply off the metal components of the medical devices on either side of his bed. It was bright, incredibly bright for the pair of burgundy colored eyes that haven't seen the light of day in over four weeks. The pair of eyes that belonged to a young man with ginger hair and a plethora of discolored gauze bandage wrapped around his torso.

"This is a hospital room isn't it," croaked Otonashi, finally managing to pull his eyelids far back enough to see.

His eyes slowly scanned the rather bleak room, finally landing on the source of his irritation and the incessant beeping noise: a monitor displaying his heart rate that released a faint beep each time he felt a gentle thump within his chest. He almost instantly remembered every detail on the function of the device, his brain quickly processing the surplus of raw information he had memorized from medical textbooks. His brain doing much the same as his gaze landed on the IV and followed a thin tube down to the needle currently residing in his forearm. He then turned his head over to the right, his eyes landing on a small table by his bed on which there sat a vase containing a small bouquet of flowers.

He also noticed a few 'get well' cards lying untouched on the table. There was a card that lay on its side. It was off-green in color and had illustrations of flowers on the cover. Another card leaned against the vase and was a pale gold in color with stylized text printed on it. There were a couple more cards placed carefully on the table but only one card stood out. There was only one card out of the many that had managed to trap his weary gaze. The card was simple. There were no illustrations on it and it was plain white in color, almost as if someone had simply folded a laminate piece of paper in half. There were only a few characters written on the card in scratchy hand writing that one would most likely expect of a grade schooler.

_Dear Onii-chan._

_Please get well soon._

_Love, Hatsune._

Otonashi stared blankly at the card, reading the words over and over in his head.

_Get well..._

_Onii-chan..._

_Hatsune..._

What was this? What the hell was with these emotions running rampant through his head? These words, these few words had somehow sent his thoughts spinning at a thousand feet per second. It was as if an earthquake had shook him to the core and he had turned into a bomb ready to explode. He could only lay in shock as a conflict deep within him had erupted into a full blown war of thoughts and regrets. He could only remain in his state of semi-shock as he felt the oddly familiar sting of tears well up in his eyes, clouding his vision. It had happened so suddenly and left him completely defenseless as a torrent of forgotten memories from a life he once lived washes over him like a tidal wave.

A light glaze over his eyes and a stinging in his nose had turned to streams of tears that ran freely down his cheeks as all of his thoughts looped back to the only thing that had ever kept him afloat. Otonashi could only force one word through his dry lips as he let it all out.

_"Hatsune."_


	2. I'm Coming Home

**Hello, I'm back with another chapter. Since people are actually reading this story, I guess I'll continue writing it. I don't have an update schedule yet so I can't say how often I'll be getting these chapters out but I'll try to release them in a timely fashion.**

**Anyway, please leave a review if you like the story, they help motivate me.**

* * *

**Angel Beats After Story: A Second Chance**

**Chapter 2: _I'm Coming Home_**

Otonashi wasn't sure how much time had passed; the salty trails staining his face had long since dried up. He was still quite drowsy, although he wasn't sure whether it was the medication or the fact that he had just woken up not too long ago. Speaking of which, how long had he been out? Hours? Days? Weeks? He wasn't sure when the flowers currently residing on the table to his right had arrived but they still looked fresh, probably only a few days old. But then again, someone might have only brought them in recently. He leaned back into the thin mattress and closed his eyes in contemplation.

_What happened and why can't I remember anything? Did I suffer head trauma? Do I have amnesia? Guess I'll have to ask whatever doctor is looking after me to explain a few things, if he ever shows up that is._

_And what was with those memories? Were they even memories to begin with? They seemed so vivid, as if it all happened just yesterday. But that couldn't be true, Hatsune had to be alive. I mean, she wrote that card didn't she? Yes, Hatsune had to be alive, she had to be. Was she still sick though?_

His musings were interrupted as he heard the door to the room open and a rhythmic tap of feet was heard as a nurse walked into his room. The nurse was a woman who looked like she was in her mid-twenties and judging from how she abruptly stopped mid-stride as she saw him staring at her, Otonashi assumed that he had been out for more than a few days. The nurse quickly collected herself and turned to leave, most likely to go find his doctor, but not before Otonashi weakly called out after her.

"Water, please."

"Of course," the nurse replied quickly, leaving the room with haste.

* * *

_The gymnasium was empty save for the five chairs positioned before the podium and a large white banner hanging high up on the wall behind it. The banner had decorative roses adorning it and the large, black characters written neatly on it, though through the haze of the memory he couldn't make them out entirely; S I DA SE A S NS N G AD TI N. Standing in front of each chair was a student. Otonashi stood to the very right. To his left was a girl wearing a somewhat different uniform from his. To the very left was a boy slightly younger than him wearing a school uniform as well but his was black. To that boy's right stood another boy slightly older wearing a uniform identical to Otonashi's except his didn't have a tie. Lastly there stood a girl in the center wearing a similar uniform to his._

"_What's the big deal? There, pass the lyrics down!"_

"_What's the melody?"_

"_All school anthems are similar, right? I think we'll be in harmony even if we wing it. Ready? And sing!"_

_From the world where the sky is dead,_  
_We present to you, our happy-go-lucky selves._  
_Before you die, be sure to eat some mapo doufu._  
_Ah, mapo doufu._  
_Mapo doufu._

"_What is with these lyrics?! Somebody should run a check beforehand! I ended up singing it!"_

"_Look…"_

* * *

Otonashi was roused from his thoughts once again to the sound of the door and footsteps except this time the doctor strode in wearing a pleasant smirk and the nurse in tow. Once in the room, the nurse quickly approached Otonashi, handing him a paper cup filled with water. He reached out for the cup in lethargy, grasping it with a slightly trembling hand as the nurse want back to the doctor's side. He proceeded to move the cup up to his dry lips, relishing in the feeling of the cool liquid slipping its way down his throat. He was thirstier than he thought. The cup was empty in less than ten seconds.

"Feeling better," the doctor chirped, looking squarely at him.

"Yes, that was refreshing," replied Otonashi.

The three occupants of the room stood in silence for a minute, Otonashi and the doctor exchanging glances and the nurse standing there looking somewhat awkward.

"How long was I out," asked Otonashi tenatively.

"Thirty-two days," the doctor stated matter-of-factly, his face beaming.

_I was out for thirty-two days?_

"So I was out for over a month, huh," Otonashi sighed.

"Yes, you were," the doctor replied briskly, "you know, we were all quite worried that you wouldn't wake up for a while," he added, lips still curved into a grin.

"We," Otonashi inquired.

"Your aunt and uncle, they really did get worried when I told them that comas are unpredictable that way," the doctor chuckled dryly," speaking of which, I should probably give them a call and let them know you're awake."

"My aunt and uncle," Otonashi asked in slight confusion, "what about my parents, didn't they visit?"

The doctor frowned as his eyes quickly scanned over whatever paper was at the front of the stack on his clipboard. "Do you not remember," the doctor asked, the cheer in his voice dampened, "apparently, your parents passed away in a vehicle accident twelve years ago."

Another sudden wave of memories flashed through Otonashi's head, filling in more of the ever present gaps that kept his past locked away.

* * *

_There was the distinct sound of heavy rain pattering against the roof and windows of the car. Otonashi sat calmly on the very right of the car's backseat, staring out through the water-coated window. Although the Otonashi that sat here was only six years old. His father sat behind the wheel while his mother rode shotgun, both of them conversing casually as husband and wife. While he could not remember what exactly they were talking about, he remembered the atmosphere: it was calming. He remembered the chill of the window whenever he rested his head against it. He remembered the lull of the car as it sped down the road. He remembered the soft breathing of his little sister sleeping soundly on her booster seat beside him. It was strange, how many little details one remembers about situations like these. He remembered the low, loud baritone of the truck's horn. He remembered his father curse as he twisted the wheel as far left as it would go. He remembered having been jerked hard to right, gravity pulling his whole weight against the cold door as tyres lost their precious grip on wet asphalt. He remembered the sound of his mother's scream, the sound of metal twisting and crushing under stress, the sound of glass cracking, the pain of his arm bending further than it should have, the feeling of his head colliding with something solid as his world turned black and his mind slipping into unconsciousness._

* * *

"Ah... Yes I remember now, of course," Otonashi admitted, a hint of sorrow lacing his voice.

"Tell me Otonashi," the doctor inquired, leaning in closer to him, "do you remember any of the events prior to your hospitalization?"

"I can't say I do," Otonashi replied after a brief pause.

"What about your injuries, do you remember why you're here," the doctor asked, curiosity evident his words and lips contorting back into a smirk.

"I don't remember that either but if the memory loss, coma, and all these bandages are any indication, I'd assume it wasn't good," Otonashi admitted.

"You'd be correct" the doctor laughed, casually flipping through a few pages on his clipboard, "looks like when they dug you out of that tunnel, you were dehydrated, malnourished, and you also had a few bruised ribs along with a pretty severe hemorrhage in your abdomen."

"Tunnel," Otonashi inquired after the doctor finished reading, once again confused.

He felt it again, that tug at the back of his mind. Another memory was making its way back to him. This was becoming a familiar feeling for Otonashi as he momentarily slipped back into realm of his thoughts.

* * *

_It's been one week._

_One week, one whole week that they have been in that damned tunnel. Was this it, was this the end. Otonashi could barely keep his eyes open at this point but he didn't need to. It was dark in the tunnel, very dark. All of their mobile phones and flashlights had long since drained their batteries of their energy. But he didn't need to see to know that there was a wrecked, derailed train close by and that there was no way out of this hell. The concrete he lay on was cold and hard. His back was sore but it couldn't compare to the pain in his abdomen. It felt like a punch to the gut each time he drew in a laboured breath. All was silent except for the uneven breathing and occasional groan of pain from the other survivors around him. This was the end of the line for them. They would die here. He would die here, without ever helping anybody. Without ever attaining the dream Hatsune gave him. This world could be damn well cruel sometimes._

_He was now in a hospital room, sitting in a chair by a white bed. The curtains on the windows facing him were drawn back allowing the midday sunlight to stream through the windows unobstructed, bathing the room's beige walls in a soft glow. He was sitting in that room watching over the sole occupant of that bed: his little sister, Hatsune. She had a small coughing fit shortly after turning the page of a manga she was currently reading._

"_Shouldn't you rest some already," Otonashi asked her, slightly concerned._

"_I want to read a little more," she replied wearily._

"_Oh fine," he said as he stood up and walked over to her, draping his coat over her frail body. "There. We don't want you catching a cold. But, why won't you get any better," he asked nobody in particular. _

"_If only we could find a donor," she answered solemnly._

"_A donor…"_

* * *

It was a quick lapse, sudden like an arc of lightning across a stormy sky and gone just a fast as it came, but it was long enough. Long enough for him to remember just why he was here. Unfortunately for him, it did not explain everything. It was quite the enigma; there was an unexplainable blank in his memories between then and now. A blank from where he remembered something and nothing at the same time.

_Angel._

He remembered that one fragment, plain as day. He couldn't explain it, no, but it was there. It was as if it happened just yesterday but he could only recall so little about it. There were enough things about this situation that he could explain. The hemorrhage in his abdomen: enough blunt trauma could easily cause such a thing. The coma: he wasn't receiving nearly enough water or nutrients to properly sustain him so his brain forced his body into a typical vegetative state. But this. This memory, this thing, whatever it was, completely eluded him.

_Stunning golden eyes and beautiful silver hair, who is this girl?_

"The fact that you have amnesia isn't that surprising either, it's actually a pretty common side effect of death," the doctor admitted nonchalantly, his gaze not leaving the clipboard in front of him.

If Otonashi had been holding a cup of piping hot coffee, he probably would have burned his lap. "Come again?"

"Oh right, about that," the doctor added, as if telling his wife that the grocery store had sold out of her favourite cereal, "technically you were dead for about six and a half minutes. You bled out in the ambulance on the way to the hospital so they had to give you a blood transfusion before they revived you."

"That explains a few things," Otonashi said, still somewhat rattled by that little piece of information.

"Well," the doctor stated jovially, shoving his clipboard into the nurse's arms, "I'd love to stay and chat a bit more, maybe over coffee, but I've got patients to tend to and a schedule to uphold so if you don't have any more pressing matters to discuss, I think I'll be taking my leave."

"No, not really," Otonashi replied, "thank you for your time."

The doctor promptly turned to leave, the nurse following closely. Once again, Otonashi was left to his thoughts alone in the hospital room.

* * *

It wasn't too long, probably somewhere between thirty and forty five minutes, before his aunt and uncle walked into his hospital room. To say that they were relieved to see him awake was an understatement. His aunt ran up to him and wrapped him in a hug repeating how happy she was seeing him awake and well. His uncle stood by the bed with a genuine smile on his face. Otonashi spent the next little while talking with his relatives. They told him everything that had happened while he was in a coma as well as how worried his sister became when they broke the news to her. He felt a pang of guilt somewhere inside of him when they told him how she broke down into tears almost immediately after realizing that her precious brother, the only family she had left, may never wake up. He was going to have to buy Hatsune a hell of a lot of manga to make up for this.

Throughout the conversation, little pieces and fragments of Otonashi's memories came back to him. He remembered how when he woke up in the hospital after the vehicle accident with a cast on his right arm, he had been told that both his parents had died; his mother was killed instantly due to a spinal injury and his father died shortly after the accident due to head trauma. Having nobody left to take care of the two children, his mother's sister and her husband took it upon themselves to take care of raise them. He remembered having lived with them for years after the incident. Many memories of times they spent together as a family returned to him. He remembered being happy with them when they went on vacations during school breaks. He remembered being sad with them when they attended his parent's funeral. He remembered despairing with them when the doctor told them Hatsune had three years left at most and would spend the rest of her days at the hospital. He remembered being angry at them when they argued with and scolded him for dropping out of school. He remembered many things about the time they spent together as family.

"I wonder when I'll be discharged," Otonashi sighed wearily.

The doctor actually said you're free to go now," his uncle explained, "we just talked to him earlier. He said that your injuries have mostly healed and if you're feeling up to it, they can discharge you now."

_Home._ _It seems like a hundred years since I've been at home. But that's ridiculous; I've only been away for about a month. Why do I feel this way, like I'm missing something very important that I should have known but don't. This is a strange feeling, why? Why do I feel this way, what am I missing? I'm going to have to look into this before I lose my mind._

"Well, then I guess I'm coming home," Otonashi decided with a warm smile.

* * *

A heavy sense of familiarity hit Otonashi as he stepped through the door into his home. It smelled differently from the hospital, very differently. While the hospital smelled of disease and antiseptics, his home smelled inviting; as if beckoning him to come in and relax and clear his head. It was a good feeling, one that he could get very used to. He stripped off his shoes and left them by the door as he walked into the room, depositing onto the table the get-well cards that he collected from his hospital; he would read through all of them later. He turned to his aunt as she walked into the room as well.

"Hey uh... Is Hatsune here? She sent me a card and I really want to go thank her." Otonashi half-lied as he already had a pretty good idea were his little sister was.

"Oh... Do you not remember," she said looking slightly downcast. "She's in the hospital, she's been staying there ever since..."

"She was diagnosed, yes I remember now," Otonashi interrupted, his mood slightly dampened upon having his suspicions confirmed. "I think I'll go for some air, I haven't been outside in over a month."

His aunt paused for a few seconds. "Well don't stay out too long; dinner will be ready at around six." She said in a motherly tone.

"I'll try not to," Otonashi returned softly. With that he donned his pair of shoes once again and walked out the door.

For a little while, Otonashi walked aimlessly in a relatively empty park near his house. After some time to himself to think things over, he returned home. The smell of his first actual meal in weeks greeted him 'welcome'. After finishing the meal, he showered then retired for the night. After spending so much time lying still in a hospital bed, all of this activity was quite draining. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity he would get to see his little sister again. Whatever these confusing, conflicting memories meant, he did not know. However, he would have to get to the bottom this someway, somehow. But no matter how pressing these matters were, they would at least have to wait until tomorrow. Right now, he would sleep.

_Tomorrow Hatsune, I will see you again._

* * *

__**Next Time: _World So Cold_**


	3. World so Cold

**Hello dear readers, I have finally returned after a short (not very short) hiatus. I apologize for the lack of updates in the recent months. Unfortunately, I have been very preoccupied with school work and GnK. However, now that school and exams are finally over and I only have Sakaki's route left to read, I should now have copious amounts of free time to spend writing this fic and powering through the long list of VNs I have planned to read. Now, without further ado, I bring you chapter 3!**

* * *

**Angel Beats After Story: A Second Chance**

**Chapter 3: _World so Cold_**

The weather outside was rather poor. It wasn't a storm, not quite, just a light drizzle; a constant, steady drizzle. There was no thunder, no lightning, just a mundane, irritating light downpour accompanied by the distant cry of sirens. It was the kind of rain that one would expect right before a storm, or one that came directly after. The kind of rain that said _go home_ or _buy an umbrella, punk, it's raining_. It was the kind of rain that nobody liked, the kind that made people sigh in exasperation. It really was quite the depressing kind of weather. It would actually be quite fitting in a short story or dramatic novel, the kind of pathetic fallacy you would expect to find spawned by the protagonist's sour mood or feelings of empty loneliness but the boy currently laying still on the cold, wet asphalt was having none of it. The few bystanders absorbing the scene before them watching with a curiosity tinged with morbidity. It was an uncommon scene but none the less real. Time, it seemed, was moving rather slowly as the melody of the rapidly approaching ambulance's sirens steadily climbed towards a crescendo, disturbing the oddly peaceful atmosphere that permeated the air.

_What the hell is that noise, it's so loud._

His mind was still hazy, his thoughts still clouded, and for what reason he did not know. What he did know was that it was loud, wet, and cold, _so cold_. It did not help in the least that he was under dressed. However, he could not remember why he did not dress appropriately for the weather. As a matter of fact, he couldn't remember anything, and that confused him. It wasn't that he'd forgotten everything about his life. He knew his name and he knew that he was a third year high school student. He knew that his mother never came home and that he had a burning passion for baseball. The strange thing was that he couldn't remember the date, where he was, or why he was laying on his back, on the ground, barely conscious. Actually, that wasn't entirely truthful either. He remembered certain things but these memories didn't make sense. He knew that he wasn't necessarily a delinquent; he knew that he's never proposed to a girl, and he's certainly never attempted to gun down a classmate. Either way, the tangled mess of memories could wait. Right now, he needed to get a hold of himself and come to his senses.

Unfortunately, that was a challenge in its own right. His mind was still hazy and he was having a hard time thinking straight. He couldn't hear clearly, as if his ears were water-clogged or he was trapped at the bottom of a deep, dark, pool. He felt like he had just been roused from sleep in the middle of the night and just couldn't manage to collect his bearings. He tried hard to pull himself together, to at least crack his eyes open, but his eyelids were so heavy, and he was so cold. Even when he heard the squealing of brakes, felt arms lifting him off of the cold, hard ground. He could still do nothing, all of his pitiful attempts in vain.

However, full consciousness did eventually find him, but it certainly took its sweet time. The ambulance was nearly at its destination by the time he finally managed to strike up a conversation with the paramedic beside him, asking him questions that slowly filled the gap that his memories could not.

"So you have no recollection of what happened prior to your sudden loss of consciousness" the paramedic asked.

"No... No, I don't," replied Hinata replied, slightly deject, "what happened?"

"According to the man who dialed emergency services, you just lost consciousness on the spot," the paramedic stated.

"How long was I out," Hinata asked tentatively, rubbing his left eye with the back of his hand.

"I would say you were unconscious for about fourteen minutes; the man who dialed emergency services actually thought you were dead. However, we did confirm that you were in fact alive when we got there," the paramedic paused, then continued, "Anyways, we'll be arriving at the hospital shortly and have a doctor take a look at you, you know, make sure that wasn't a stroke or anything serious," the paramedic explained.

"Ah, I see, thanks for the explanation," Hinata replied, ending the conversation on a slightly awkward tone.

* * *

Hinata had no idea what time it was when he arrived at the hospital, but it was already well into the evening by the time he exited the building via the main entrance. The clock that he had passed on his way out read seven hours and twelve minutes _post meridiem_ and the sun, partially secluded behind a veil of morose, black clouds, bathed the damp earth in a tender, golden glow as it sat lazily on the horizon. It was almost ethereal, he thought to himself, how the brilliant rays cascaded gently upon the ground beneath, as if they were divine curtains hanging from the heavens themselves; luminescent drapery strewn about by angels who left impressions of beauty dispelling the melancholy left behind by the sullen clouds.

_Angel._

The word hung on his tongue like the aftertaste of bitter ambrosia, a sweet and pleasing memory with a slight tinge of an unappealing flavor; an aftertaste that left his thoughts in shambles. It had been prodding his thoughts, poking at them like a visceral appendage, serving to remind him of an important event; something that should have left a lasting impression that would warrant a plethora of memories that, simply put, were currently beyond his reach. Whether he would reach them or not, only time would tell.

_That had to be the most uneventful visit to a doctor I've ever had the displeasure of having_, Hinata thought to himself as he sighed inwardly. _I stay for an examination that felt like it took hours, only for the doctor to tell me that I am perfectly fine and recommend that I get I good night's sleep every day!? I am seventeen, not a fucking grade schooler, if only he could have told me something I don't know. Speaking of not knowing, why can't I remember anything? I don't drink and I haven't hit my head on anything recently either, so why don't I remember what I did today, or yesterday, or this week as a matter of fact. Forget this, it's getting late and I need to head home_. Hinata's mood soured a little upon the thought of 'home' but he quickly brushed it off. _Knowing myself, I probably still have homework to finish_. With those thoughts, and the realization that he probably looked more than a little out of place standing stock still in front of a hospital, staring at the sky, deep in thought, he turned on his heel and began walking in the direction of his home.

* * *

Dusk had already fallen by the time Hinata stopped in front of the door that he had attempted to slip through unnoticed so many times before. It was such a familiar sight yet somehow, it felt so foreign. It was as if he stumbled upon a distant friend in the dark; there was the familiarity, there always will be, but at the same time, there existed this sense of uncertainty; an ambivalence that obscured nearly everything he thought he knew. Whatever it was that stirred such unnerving feelings within him, he had vague memories of. It was possible that it wasn't something that he forgot per se, but something that he preferred not to remember. He was sure, however, that whatever lay beyond that door would surely serve as a stark reminder as to what caused him such uneasiness in a place that, without a doubt, should only bring him comfort and security; the place he called 'home'.

He willed his hand towards the doorknob. It had a dull gleam from the streetlight that illuminated the dark road behind him; casting light on the darkness that gripped him ever so gently. The brass of the doorknob felt cool and comforting against his sweaty palm as he gripped it tightly enough that his knuckles turned white. _Why am I hesitating? It's just a door. Anybody can do this, anybody can open a door. _He felt a cold sweat form on the back of his neck as he mentally chastised himself. He was unnerved, he knew that, but what he did not know nor could not comprehend was why. He involuntarily clenched the brass knob even harder. He could feel his wrist begin to cramp. _Come on Hinata, just open it already. You need to twist the doorknob, not try to crush it. Just calm down; calm down and open the door. _ After a brief pause, Hinata closed his eyes and took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the refreshing night's air; mentally steeling himself for what reason, he did not know.

The first thing he noticed as he stepped through the doorway was the light, or lack thereof. The house was very dimly lit. None of the lights in the house were on, the only source of it being the television that cast bright colors and flashing shadows onto the walls as it played what seemed to be a film from the action-thriller genre or what he thought was a film of that sort, judging by the few seconds of it that he'd seen thus far. The house was also disorderly in general. He could see a coffee table that was littered with papers. From his current distance, he could not make out any of the contents but they looked important. There was also a plain, black briefcase resting against the table's legs. Across the room, he spotted a dress shirt and a tie hanging loosely off of the back of a dining chair. The second thing that Hinata noticed was the form slumped on a couch not too far in front of the screen, holding a phone in one hand and a bottle of sake in the other. Another few seconds passed before the form slowly turned its head around towards him, its dark, slightly graying, navy blue hair swaying a little as dull grey eyes turned to stare at him.

"Oh, it's you," the form spoke in a dry tone lacking warmth and empathy.

As Hinata realized that any conversation that he started now would not be civil, he simply shed his shoes by the door and continued walking towards the stairs that would lead him up to the second floor where his room was situated. His sock-clad feet produced soft, rhythmic sounds as he strode past the sitting form, his face a passive mask of indifference. Hinata knew this was an utterly rude gesture, completely unlike him, but that did not register with him at this particular moment in time. It did not bother him in the least, he had better things to do than waste his time here. A look of mild surprise spread across the form's face as Hinata silently walked past it.

"No snappy retort? Heh, sure don't get that every day," the form added, its tone laced with a hideous mixture of surprise and mockery.

That's it. He tried his best to avoid it but to no avail.

"What do you want from me? If you have something to say, spit it out! Don't pester me with these pointless comments." Hinata snapped with irritation, turning to face the form once again.

The form relaxed, its eyes seemingly donning a bored look.

"I got a call from the hospital today. If you're going to have someone disrupt me while I'm working, make sure it's important," the form spoke, a look of annoyance spreading across its features, "and try not to get yourself hospitalized, I don't want to get stuck paying your hospital bills," it added, turning its head back towards the television.

"Well you certainly don't sugar-coat things," Hinata added as an afterthought, his mood souring even more upon hearing the complaint.

The form once again turned its head towards Hinata, giving him a weary look.

"Do you want me to," it inquired plainly.

"Don't bother," Hinata replied, now feeling more exhausted than had all day.

He turned on his heel and continued towards the stairs, not bothering to spare the form another glance. The form was, of course, his father; a contemptible man in Hinata's opinion. The conversation that he just had the utter displeasure of having was how most of their conversations were held: full of acidic remarks, sarcasm-ridden requests, and empty words of false honesty. If all the memories of this piteous relationship were not present in his mind earlier, they were now; He could even say they returned suddenly. Either way, this is how things have always been. Well, that isn't entirely true, it's how things have been for a long time. There once was a time, way back when, when his family was just that: a family. His father was a respectable office worker and a caring man who looked out for his relations. His mother was a pleasant woman, full of kindness. He himself, used to be a boisterous young boy. However things change, for better or worse, nothing lasts forever. The ones who are lucky only learn this rule later in life, or so he likes to think. Either way, forever is a vague term to him. He could argue that forever does not exist; that forever is just a half-cocked method of explaining something that is beyond words. He could argue that everything ends, that eternity is just a fantasy, not reality, that it's only a matter of time. Whether things were always the way they were and his young self didn't look deep enough to see the cracks or whether time wore down a presumably strong bond until it turned to shackles, he did not know.

Hinata remembered that it was as he neared his final years of grade school, that he began to notice the small hints and clues left behind like breadcrumbs for the birds. He would see the occasional glare they traded when they thought he wasn't looking. Sharp eyes replaced sharp tongues and sent stares like bullets, perforating integrity as they hit home. He would hear the occasional arguments they had when they thought he wasn't listening. Words dripping with venom were poison coated daggers that they used to tear apart each other's ideals leaving only tattered scraps of the cloth that once held them together. He tried to ignore it, tried not to notice the things they let slip into plain sight but it was difficult; difficult not to notice what was so obviously tearing at the seams. Then one day, he made a mistake; he made the mistake of calling them out, of letting them now that he was not ignorant, nor oblivious.

Looking back on that day, he realized that he would much rather face beautiful lies instead of the ugly truth. Life would have been so much better if he could have just ignored it; if he had just continued accepting the white lies that they fed him, it would have been alright. He knew that it was a naïve thought, it always was. However naïve the thought was, he couldn't help but think of what could have been if had never said a word. He would much rather live in a fantasy; even if it's just a pathetic attempt to escape the inevitable. He had always wondered about it; if he lived a fantasy long enough, would it become reality? It was a preposterous thought; he knew very well that it would never happen, because no matter what the circumstances are, fantasy will always be make believe. He had even attempted it, however vain it was. For a short while following the incident, they tried to live in a fool's paradise, but they weren't fools, and it wasn't paradise. The cracks were constantly growing and there was no way to fill them all. A fissure was growing between them, like a tumour; no matter what they did, they could not rid themselves of it. One day, not much later, his mother initiated a particularly vile argument with his father and the next day, she was gone. It happened suddenly; so suddenly that he could have never predicted it. It shocked him just how easily the dam broke. The sea of problems they had all developed had rose to a peak and, without warning, had flooded everything that they had built between them over the years. Hinata's father always said that she had gotten into an accident and lost her life but he had never once seen her grave. He realized his father was living his own fantasy; that he too was trying to escape reality. He had his own methods of avoiding the truth, he realized. Hinata would be lying if he too said that he didn't try to look away when the truth reared its ugly head; that he had never tried making his own fantasy but it was an impossible feat. He was too grounded in reality to be able to escape using such trivial methods; he needed something tangible. Maybe, just maybe, that was why he was so enamoured with baseball; it was his own method of distracting himself.

Those were the foul memories and wayward thoughts that plagued his mind as he ascended the stairs and dragged his feet to his room. If all the memories that Hinata could not yet find were of this variety, he thought to himself, he would much rather stay in the dark. After all, living a fantasy is sometimes easier.

* * *

As he closed the door behind him, he leaned back against it. He felt thoroughly drained; if not physically, then definitely mentally. He rested his head against the solid wood of the door, his gaze drifting up to the ceiling. If he did have any homework to finish today, it would have to wait until tomorrow because right now, nothing was more appealing to him then sleep. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to lie down on his bed and forget; forget about everything that happened today. He thought to himself, with a bitter sense of irony, that maybe he was trying to escape again but he quickly banished the thought. It was useless to worry about things that would not change. He shifted his weight back onto his legs and walked the short distance to his bed, collapsing onto it as soon as he was within proper distance. It was a pleasant feeling; sinking into the mattress as he felt his fatigue grip him

_Well life sure does suck sometimes; _a sigh escaped his lips as he let his thoughts wander. _I better have baseball practice tomorrow._

* * *

**Next Time: _Shattered Glass and Chance Encounters_**


	4. A Pleasant Distraction

**Nyanotic here, the chapter was getting pretty long so I split it into two. The next chapter will focus on Hinata as well and then it will shift back to Otonashi (Unless anyone wants me to introduce any of the other characters a little early, in that case leave your request in a review).**

**p.s: apologies for the wait :P**

* * *

**_Angel Beats After Story: A Second Chance_**

**_Chapter 4: A Pleasant Distraction_**

_All of his surroundings were bathed in a brilliant mixture of golds and reds as the sun neared the end of its circadian journey across the heavens. From his vantage point on the crest of the hill, he could see the trees and mountains that lined the horizon like paintings in a gallery, painted a pale blue by the very distance that separated them. It was a peaceful moment for him; a pleasant break from the stress of recent events. When he walked this path, absorbing the sheer beauty of his surroundings as the sunset set standards of elegance for his very eyes, he could do nothing but appreciate the small things. It was a habit of his, it seemed, ever since he arrived at this timeless place; a habit he never granted himself the pleasure of experiencing before his arrival. However, that was the past; something he tried not to concern himself with anymore. Being concerned by such trivial matters here served no purpose but to elevate the melancholy brought about by the knowledge that there is nowhere to go from here; that this is the end of the line. It was for this reason alone that he was able to appreciate the cool evening breeze as it gently caressed his skin, rustling the leaves on the trees he passed as he slowly made his way along the crude dirt path; gravel crunching beneath his loafers as he moved forward with no burden on his mind to distract him. He could hear the birds as they sang their songs to the forest; gentle chirps slipping from their beaks as they gave the evening's ambience life. He looked up at the sky, the small number of clouds that did hang in the air were painted radiant shades of ochre as the sky's blazing red ball of light continued to sink beyond the horizon's insurmountable depths._

_He continued his stroll along the grounds unperturbed as he reflected. How long had he been taking these walks? How many times had he followed this sinuous path? It had been a long time since he picked up such a habit as this; but then again, it is easy to lose track of time in a place like this. Everything here is timeless; immortal. Just how many times has he seen the sun rise and set? If he had to guess, he would say that he has spent years in this place, if not decades, and in all of this time, however, he had not aged a day; nobody has. He can no longer even count on one hand how many times it was that he had perished; yet every single time, he would open his eyes again as if nothing happened. He could say all of this from experience, wisdom even; he was, after all, one of the first to arrive in this place. How many people has he seen come and go; how many people stayed? He could not help but reflect upon all of these things as he walked; it was, after all, a habit of his. _

_He could clearly remember the first time he opened his eyes here; the day that he arrived. Perhaps it wasn't his fault that this is where he ended up, but the work of a higher power that brought him here. If it truly was the latter, he would not be angry; that would be completely unlike him. Either way, even if he didn't wish for this outcome, there is absolutely nothing that could be done about it; that was one of the many lessons that this place had taught him._

_Hinata was abruptly roused from this reverie as the sound of voices reached his ears. While it was not out of the ordinary for others to be outside at this hour, hardly anyone would wander this far from the grounds. The origin of the voices, he realized, was the baseball diamond not too far from where he stood. As he focused upon it, two figures caught his eyes but they only fixated themselves on one: the girl. Even without the voice, there would be no mistaking her. The slender silhouette of her petite frame; it had a playful yet enticing allure. Her vivacious attitude; it was childlike but emitted an aura of innocence that captivated every one of his senses. Her rose tresses that cascaded down the full length of her lean back, pooled on her svelte shoulders, and framed the youthful features of her face; dyed crimson by the light of the setting sun. She was clad in loose clothing and a black baseball helmet. A wooden bat hung lazily from her bandage cloaked fingers. He reprimanded himself for, once again, staring but then took the time to analyze the situation and ask himself: Just what is she doing out here at this hour, with a boy nonetheless? They were the questions that he would have attempted to answer had he not paid closer attention to the girl's expression. Her eyes, her beautiful magenta eyes, where threatening to force thick tears to spill from their corners as they fixated their gaze at the ground beneath her feet. The edges of her lips tugged themselves into a bitter, pitiful smile as she spoke. Why does she look so depressed, like she could break down into tears at any moment? Distracted by his own inquiries, Hinata failed to notice that he was now moving; his legs were propelling him forwards one step at a time of their own volition. He realized that, without even thinking, he was moving towards the scene; towards her. He could not comprehend it; why was he aiming to intervene, albeit subconsciously? Her problems were her own, not his. He didn't need to burden himself with other people's issues, especially here. Perhaps it was a habit of his that he had instilled in himself long before his arrival here, but to what degree was he willing to step out of his way for something such as the scene currently playing before him? Then suddenly, apprehension dawned on him. Perhaps it wasn't his willingness to help out others but some other, stronger, more compelling emotion. He would not step so far out of his way for anyone, except her. What was it about her, specifically, that compelled him so vigorously; why was she special? He pondered the thought as his legs carried him ever closer to her; he was almost within earshot. Why did this girl affect him so strongly; what did she do to warrant this kind of hold on him. After all, she was just an annoying brat that caused him nothing but headaches. They always argued and never saw eye to eye. She was reckless, she lived in the moment, she never looked back; she was the polar opposite of him. So what, pray tell, could she have possibly done for him to stir such emotion? Was there anything, in all the time that they've spent together, that she had done for his sake? For the longest time, he was gripped by a darkness; a cold, hideous thing that clung to his back wherever he went, whatever he did. It whispered incessant imprecations into his ears; profane obscenities that pierced his very soul. It was a vile fiend that suffocated his very being. This girl was, however, the outright antipode of him; she shone brightly, like a star burning with all of its might in the dark night's sky. Could it be; was this why she affected him so? The scales fell from his eyes as the answer became clear as day. She was a beacon, he realized; a beacon of light and warmth in this cold, dark world. Whenever he felt himself sinking too deep into the sea of despair, she would shine upon him, with all of her brilliance. Whenever his demons threatened to snuff out the resilient fire that burned in his soul, she would be the fuel that gave the flame life once more. _

_No longer were Hinata's legs moving themselves, it was he that took each stride, determination visible in his eyes. This girl had helped him so many times before without either one of them ever realizing it; it was time for Hinata to return the favor. This time, it would be him who reached out with a helping hand._

"_There's one more thing."_

"_What is it?"_

"_To get married."_

_So that is why she appears so distressed. She has had enough of this place; it is her time to move on. But is that what she really desires; her wish that was never granted? Is that her regret? It shouldn't be a difficult one to fulfill, in his opinion._

"_Worse yet, I couldn't do anything alone. I was such a dead weight."_

_What do you mean dead weight? Is that really how you would define yourself? That's bullshit; you're not dead weight at all! You're an amazing person. You're energetic, funny, and constantly flashing that contagious grin. You help others when they are in need, you value the people close to you, and you're a genuinely kind soul. You can always lighten the mood and strive to pick people up when they're down. After all this time, how can you still call yourself a burden?_

"_God is so mean; he took all my happiness away."_

_So what if he did? You can always find more; it's abundant. I'm sure that if you searched for it, if you tried hard enough, you'd find it. And if you can't, there will always be somebody there to help you look. The 'you' that I've come to know would never give up that easily._

"_I wonder who would ever marry me."_

_How can you possibly say that! There are several billion people in this world; how can you possibly say that nobody would ever marry you, that's a lie! I'm sure that there's at least somebody out there who would. And if there wasn't, I'd do it myself; I'd marry you._

"_I'd marry you!"_

* * *

Hinata's eyes shot open as he sucked in one rapid breath after another. His eyes focused upon the poster pinned to the ceiling above his bed. After a moment, he realized he was in his own bedroom, not the dormitory he'd spent monotonous decades in- if only he could remember so much. The bright morning sunlight slipped through the cracks in his blinds, painting brilliant white streaks across the opposing wall. A small shiver ran down his spine as the sweat-soaked sheets clung to his bare back_. It isn't that hot in my room_, thought Hinata as he emerged from his sleep-induced drowsiness_, did I have a nightmare or something? I can't remember anything? I think there was a sunset.. and a baseball diamond, the hell is so nightmarish about that?_ Deciding to drop the line of thought and prepare for yet another day of school, he dragged himself out of his bed and stalked lethargically towards the bathroom, the cold floor sending shivers through his feet with every step.

This particular morning was no different than any other. After freshening up, he made his way down to the kitchen to prepare breakfast and eat it. During this time, his father would brew coffee, collect his documents, and then leave for work. They never talked to each other in the mornings simply because neither of them had anything to say. This was what all the mornings were like for them, and this was the reason why Hinata tried to leave as soon as he could. The atmosphere was awkward and stifling, and he hated it.

* * *

An uninspiring morning greeted Hinata as he stepped out the door. A cool breeze caressed his skin as the early sun peaked it head over the city's horizon. The grass was still damp with dew as the hazy air hung loosely in the sky. He didn't live very far from the school so he often walked. This morning however, as he walked, he found himself lost in thought. A recollection of yesterday's events passed through his mind. He knew he was most likely overthinking it, but something about yesterday didn't sit well with him. He felt as though he was missing something; something important. He remembered passing out on the street but couldn't remember what had happened before. It was only yesterday but it felt like yesterday was an eternity ago. He dared say that it was like a dream, and he could barely remember any of it. _I should probably try to forget this whole ordeal as soon as I can. I don't need to distract myself with anything other than baseball, after all I..._

"Hinacchi!"

It was just then that Hinata heard somebody call him out, and by that ridiculous nickname nonetheless. There were only a handful of people he knew who called him that and he recognized the voice almost immediately. He turned to see his best friend, Hiroaki Yamada, jogging towards him.

"What's up, Hiro-chan?" Hinata replied as he closed the distance to his friend.

"For fuck's sake, enough with the Hiro-chan, you're really starting to piss me off."

Hinata chuckled at his friend's irritated countenance. Addressing him strangely was one of his few antics that never got old, at least in his eyes.

"So tell me," Hinata inquired as they started to walk, "what has you so pumped up this morning."

"Come on Hinacchi, you know I'm always pumped up in the mornings," Hiroaki joked as he flashed a grin.

They ran into each other on the way to school quite often. Hiroaki didn't live far away from him so it wasn't unsual. They both welcomed it as well; it gave them the chance to talk in the mornings without skipping the first few minutes of class, and Hiroaki always had something to say. He had long since accepted that his friend just enjoyed talking. He was also just as social with others and as a result, Hinata knew just about everything that happed in school and within his social circle. While mentally sorting through the last few bits of news Hiroaki shared with him, he realized just why his friend was more excited than usual today.

"Wait, don't you have a date or something with that girl from 1-B after practice today," hinata asked as he reflected on their last few conversations.

"Shut up, it isn't a date," hiroaki replied, slightly flustered, "We're just getting coffee together."

"That's called a _date_, Hiroaki," Hinata said, turning to give his friend a humble look, "stop being so nervous about it.

"I guess you're right," Hiroaki spoke after a short pause, "our team could go to the tournament tomorrow and I wouldn't break a sweat, yet here I am getting all flustered over a girl."

"That's more like it," Hinata exclaimed as gave his friend a firm pat on the back. As he looked up, he noticed they were already upon the school's gates.

"Well, I'll catch you later Hinacchi," Hiroaki stated as he sauntered off.

Hiroaki and he were quite similar, Hinata thought as he walked towards the school's main entrance. They were both second years, both of them were on the school's baseball team, and both of them enjoyed occasionally flirting with the cute first years; as a matter of fact, he didn't have any friends who didn't. They had been friends for a very long time; they met each other in grade school, when they were both still little brats. They didn't share many interests except one; they both enjoyed sports. After all, it was Hiroaki who first introduced him to baseball when he began looking for a distraction from the monotony of life. They essentially grew up together. Both of them made their way through the rest of grade school as well as junior high together. Now they were here, trudging through their academics with mediocre grades, and playing for one of the city's best high school baseball teams. However, one of their only, and most notable, differences was their luck with the opposite gender. Hinata had been in a few relationships in the past; once in his last year of junior high, and two just in the last year. None of those three had ever grown very serious, but all of them ended on good terms; he still talked with two of the three girls occasionally, only because he lost the number of the third. Hiroaki, however, was quite the opposite. He had faced rejection at least four times and Hinata could never understand why. Were they out of his league? His friend had good looks and was an athlete just like him. It just seemed like he could never find an answer to that question, no matter how hard the thought about. _Could it be that I'm dense? _He let his thoughts wander as he made his way to the main entrance.

Hinata took a glance at his watch as he walked, the time read eight fifty-two; class would be starting soon. He picked up his pace as he made his way to class. The first period class for him today is mathematics; he hated having mathematics in the morning, especially on Mondays. Luckily for him today was Friday. After entering the classroom, he walked straight towards his desk and took a seat. He absorbed the ambience of the class as he leaned back in his seat and stretched his arms. A group of four girls stood surrounding the desk immediately to his right. He could hear them discussing the selection of shirts in a women's clothing store he believed was in the nearest shopping centre. He heard them discussing several brands that he wasn't familiar with. In front of him were two of his male classmates discussing what he assumed were anime. He had watched some of the popular titles in the past but wasn't a particular fan of the lifeblood of the _otaku_ culture. He decided to tune out the sounds of his peers in favor of looking out the window to his left as he rested his head in his arms. He watched the trickle of cars flow freely down the street, the odd student running for the entrance to make it to class before the bell. The events of yesterday slowly pushed their way back up to the surface of his thoughts. He knew he was forgetting something. He could feel it, and that was what annoyed him but confused him as well. He couldn't forget about it; sweep it under the rug like a matter no longer relevant. As he sat in thought, he realized that he couldn't wait for baseball practice after school today; After all, it was a pleasant distraction.

* * *

**Next Time: _Shattered Glass and Chance Encounters/This chapter part 2_**


	5. Shattered Glass and Chance Encounters

**Hello readers, Nyanotic here with chapter five (chapter 4 part 2?). This will probably be the last chapter from Hinata/Yui POV until at least chapter 8. What that also means, is that I have the next few chapters more or less planned out and just need to write them; so hopefully, I'll release them within a reasonable amount of time. Now, without further ado, chapter 5.**

* * *

_**Angel Beats After Story: A Second Chance**_

_**Chapter 5: Shattered Glass and Chance Encounters**_

"Now that we have factored negative two out of the equation, we are left with negative two, bracket, x squared minus eight x, bracket, plus eleven. Now, who wants to demonstrate to the class how we find the vertex?"

Hinata did occasionally pay genuine attention during class. However, as the period was already half over, and the teacher continued to drone on about quadratics, he found interest in nothing more than staring out the window whilst twirling his pencil between his thumb and forefinger. The scenery outside barely changed as the minutes of class seemed to drag on ceaselessly. It was calm, he thought, and peaceful. The leaves on the trees danced gently with the wind, the occasional petal set free to glide to ground beneath. A bird would fly into view for a split second, and then disappear just as fast. A person would slowly make their way down the street as the early sun showered them in warmth. The world beyond the window was teeming with life today, it seemed. It looks nice outside right now, Hinata thought as he continued to gaze out the window. It was that transition period between summer and autumn outside, where the weather was most peculiar; some days hot, some cold, and others somewhere in between. He enjoyed this weather most, it was... pleasant, in a way.

"When completing the square, remember that you have to both add and subtract half of b, squared. If you refer to example three on page forty-two of your textbook, you'll see that-"

Hinata crossed his arms on his desk then lowered his head to rest gently on them. He knew he should be listening, following the examples with the rest of the students who actually bothered to give the teacher an ounce of their full attention, but he wasn't. He didn't like to think of himself as a delinquent because, at the end of the day, he attended all of his classes, he was punctual, and he did all of his homework. However, there weren't many things he particularly cared for. Academics definitely were on that list. He wasn't particularly smart nor interested. However, no matter what happened, he would be fine, he believed, as long as he had a bat in his hand and ball to hit. There was just something about the sport that calmed him like nothing else did. Perhaps that was what made him eccentric, perhaps it wasn't. He lifted his head out of his arms to glance at the clock. Class would be finished it just under twenty minutes. As his eyes traveled back to the window at his side, he caught the somewhat disappointed look the teacher was sending him. He didn't give it a second thought; he was used to it at this point.

* * *

The rest of the school day progressed much the same way for Hinata. He would arrive in class and give his best attempt not to fall asleep while only half listening to the lesson. During lunch break, he made his way to the roof and ate lunch alone; accompanied only by the melodic chirping of songbirds and the distant, muted conversations of students. He didn't do it because he preferred eating alone, after all, food tastes best when enjoyed with friends, but he enjoyed the silence. It was relaxing, almost soothing, eating lunch on the roof; he was in direct view of the sun that basked him in warmth, the view of the grounds from his vantage point was great, and he could lose himself in thought without any distractions. Hiroaki and some of his other friends occasionally joined him but most of the time, he had only himself for company. It seemed like only minutes had past when the bell rang, signalling the end of the break. The classes of the afternoon progressed much like the classes of the morning. He felt as if an eternity had passed before the final bell rung out, marking the end of the school day.

As soon as the last bell sounded, Hinata wasted no time travelling to his locker to deposit his books. He proceeded to grab the worn, blue duffel bag containing his uniform, cap, and glove as well as his cleats then made his way over to the change rooms. After changing into an attire more suited for the sport, he left the building and made beeline for the school's field; specifically, the baseball diamond upon which the members of his team were congregating. Hiroaki was already there, deep in a conversation with a few of the team's outfielders, and sent Hinata a big wave as soon as he noticed him approaching. A couple minutes after the whole team was assembled, their coach called for silence and addressed the team.

"Alright, listen up everyone! As you all know, the city championships are fast approaching; next month to be specific. This team has been the best in the city for two consecutive years already so we have a reputation to uphold. As a result, I don't want any of you to even think of skipping practice. We will also start having practices on Wednesdays as well." Their coach paused and looked over the assembled team members before resuming his impromptu motivational speech. "Now, let's play ball!"

The team gave a cheer as they all scrambled to the field to commence their warm-up activities.

* * *

"Fuck me," Hiroaki sighed as he and Hinata walked side by side down the street, "coach is absolutely brutal during tournament season. He was riding our asses the entire time today."

The two exhausted boys were walking down a quiet residential street as the setting sun only served to remind them that practice ran half an hour longer today. One of the reasons their team was among the best in the city, if not the whole prefecture, was because they had such a strict, demanding coach. Their coach, Koichi Homura, had coached for two teams in the NPB for a number of years earlier in his career before moving on to coach for promising high school teams across Japan. He's been with their team for the past three years.

"If you think it's bad now, just wait until the _Spring Kōshien_ comes around," Hinata replied with dread, "that's when he turns into a real monster."

"If I don't make it, tell my kids I love them," Hiroaki spoke with a hollow voice.

"What kids," Hinata asked as he and his friend turned to look at each other. A few seconds of silence passed before they broke into giggles.

"Are you still up for practicing our swings in the park tomorrow," Hinata inquired after a moment.

"Of course," his friend replied, "my batting arm is getting a bit lazy. Nine o' clock, right?"

"Yea, nine," Hinata answered.

"Well, until then," Hiroaki said as he offered Hinata a curt wave.

"Until then," Hinata replied with a wave of his own as they parted ways.

Hinata's shoes occasionally produced a faint crunching sound from stepping on small rocks as he wandered lazily down the street. A light evening breeze swept over him as he stopped to crane his head upwards, his gaze lost in the vibrant colors of the crimson sky as hues of purple spilled over the horizon. It felt almost nostalgic, watching the early evening sky without purpose. As he absorbed the natural beauty of the sight, an ethereal, almost dream like recollection of a moment lost in time surfaced in his thoughts.

_He was on a roof, most likely that of a school, leaning forwards against a cold metal railing with his arms crossed. It was early during the evening, the time of day where the sun has just set but the last few traces of daylight remain. It was cool outside, not an uncomfortable chill, but just cold enough to be pleasantly refreshing. As a young breeze greeted him, he fixed his gaze upon the sky above; it glowed with a brilliant mixture of thousands of shades of red and purple. It was strangely fantastical; it seemed so real, yet so surreal at the same time. The vibrancy of the sky untainted by clouds was enchanting, he realized, as his eyes remained captivated by the sight. All while admiring the heavens; he was in the heat of an almost philosophical discussion about the nature of fate with the girl that stood at his side. She was attractive, he had to admit, and a year his junior. She possessed a head of short, silky, dark lavender hair adorned with a lone turquoise ribbon. Her tresses framed a youthful yet slightly stern face and her eyes were a deep ocean of jade where the fire of vengeance burned brightly and ever so passionately. Her countenance was complimented by a bold personality, one that he knew better than most, and one that he held great respect and admiration for. Having spent the amount of time they did together, they were close friends yet sometimes... so much more; after all, there existed thoughts and emotions that not even death would supress._

His walk slowed to a stop as a queer thought emerged from its shackles within his hazy memory. Was it a memory, though? He stood in thought, perplexed, at the scene that just he just witnessed with his mind's eye. _What was that place? A school... or not, I can't tell. And the girl, she was right there beside me; who was she? I feel like I know her, as if she was a long lost friend. But I don't recognize her at all; I don't know her name, and I don't think I've ever seen her before. Have I lost my mind?_ Errant thoughts plagued Hinata's mind as he stood confused; a lone figure standing still like a statue of marble bathed by the twilight of the oncoming dusk. _Things have been pretty odd this week, just what exactly is going on?_

After realizing that he had been standing stock still in the middle of the road for the past five minutes, he resumed his leisurely pace back towards his house. Another several minutes had passed before he was upon the front door to his home. He eagerly entered, relieved to be free from the cold embrace of the early autumn evening.

As he abandoned his shoes by the door, he stalked towards the stairs but paused as he noticed an unusual silence permeating the house. _Guess the old man decided to hit the bar again. Well, I guess tonight will be a peaceful one._ Entering his room, he proceeded to switch the lights on, letting a sigh escape his lips as he could now have a moment of respite after a long day. He deposited his school bag by his bed and began unbuttoning his shirt.

"I should go shower, I probably smell rather unpleasant right now," Hinata spoke to no one other than himself as he slipped his shirt off and spared it a whiff, the musky, thick smell of sweat tickling his nose.

He was unsure why, but as he passed his desk, his attention fell upon the small lockbox that sat on the right hand corner. It was something he didn't usually pay much heed to; it used to belong to his mother, but he eventually ended up using it to store money and small items of personal value. What he was unaware of, was that it once would have been used to stow away the spoon, lighter, syringe and Ziploc bag containing a one way ticket to the deepest pits of dependency and despair. Unfortunately for the unlucky few, depression could be a hideous thing only to be remedied by the cursed blessing that is liquid euphoria. The substance that that was both a means of escape and the means to an end of a life never lived. He was thoroughly unaware of that which had not yet occurred, or the fact that this was his second chance; that would not stop him, however, from learning from his mistakes. In this current, second, and final attempt to find a happiness that may not even exist; to find a reason to move on, he would do his damnedest to succeed, and he did not need his memories to do so.

* * *

The morning sun shone jovially upon the greenery of the park as it ascended leisurely into the sky. Nary a single cloud dotted the clear expanse of bright azure, a boundless sea of heavenly blue that seemed to stretch into eternity. The crisp, morning air, almost a mist, hung above the ground as the sun's light gently warmed it. The atmosphere of the park was peaceful; the birds sang, couples made small talk, and every once in a while, the ring of a bat would echo throughout the park. The source of those sounds were none other than the two high schoolers taking turns pitching to each other as well as batting on a sizeable, open patch of grass.

"Come on Hinacchi," Hiroaki chirped in a mocking tone, "put some weight into that swing, I want to see this ball leave the park!"

"I might just do that if you stopped giving me half-assed pitches," Hinata returned as he swung his bat a few times in practice, moving his body into position to receive the next pitch.

"In that case, I won't hold back," Hiroaki mumbled as he tightened his grip on the ball in his hand. He rested his weight on his rear leg and cocked his arm back, almost coiling himself like a wound spring; ready to release without a moment's hesitation. He took aim, steadied his breath, and, in an instant, his hand whipped forward. Hinata momentarily lost sight of the ball that left his friend's hand at a blinding speed, but caught sight of it shooting towards him and curving slightly to the right. He attempted to adjust mid swing to the eccentricity of the pitch but missed as the only sound to greet him was the _thwip_ of the ball hitting the ground behind him.

"Last pitch, Hinnachi," Hiroaki spoke as he picked up the only ball that remained at his feet, "make it count."

Hinata narrowed his eyes, his complete focus held by the ball, this time however, was being held slightly differently; he predicted that it would curve upwards. He was not mistaken. The sound of aluminum violently meeting leather-bound cork rang out as the he felt the satisfying jerk of the bat in his hands. His grip went slack as he and Hiroaki both turned to watch the ball soar into the air at a jarring speed, its form shrinking as it rapidly covered the distance of the park. Hiroaki whistled as the ball remained soaring through the air. As it left their field of view, a moment passed before the distant sound of glass shattering reached their ears.

"You've gotta' be kidding be," Hinata groaned dismally as his friend chuckled.

"Well then... have fun smoothing that one out, I'll go retrieve all the other balls," Hiroaki spoke quickly, leaving Hinata to take responsibility for whoever's window had been so lucky.

_I hope I offended the window of a forgiving person; I don't have any money with me right now to pay for that. Maybe they will be lenient if I offer to help fix it... hell, who am I kidding, they're probably furious._ Hinata pondered how to approach this blunder of his as he walked along under the canopy of trees. _There are a couple houses here, which one did the ball even hit?_ Hinata stopped in front of one of the houses. It was an average looking, western style house; a bungalow to be specific. It had a subtle, grey brick façade and a dark grey, slightly brown-colored roof. Rose colored curtains lined the windows of the house from within and a small flower garden lined the path to the door. _Strange... it feels like this is the house, why does it seem so. Could I be... nervous? Never mind that, might as well just get this over with._ After approaching the door, he slowly brought his hand up and rapped on the wood a few times; his knuckles producing satisfying knocks on the hard wood. He heard the faint sound of footsteps and after a few moments, the door opened to reveal a woman dressed in casual clothing. She looked to be somewhere in her mid-thirties with youthful features and a seemingly exhausted look in her eyes. Upon seeing the uniform he wore, a look of realization crossed her face.

"I assume the baseball was yours," the woman stated. He was unsure whether or not the small smile on her face was genuine.

"My deepest apologies about that," Hinata said as he bowed at the waist, embarassment evident in his tone, "I can pay for it if it'll help."

"That's very kind of you," the woman replied warmly, slightly taken aback, "but that's quite alright, it's just a broken window."

"Please, I insist," Hinata pressed, a tinge of guilt lacing his tone.

"Well, I guess I can't really decline," the woman said with a smile as Hinata lifted his head up, "do you want your ball back?"

"I uh... yes, thank you," Hinata sputtered.

"Well, don't be shy, come in. It's the first door to your right, now, excuse me while I go find a broom to sweep up that broken glass," the woman stated as she walked off into the house. She paused, however, after a few steps. "By the way, I didn't catch your name?"

"Oh, it's Hinata, Hinata Hideki," he replied as the slipped his feet out of his shoes and left them by the door.

"Nice to meet you Hideki-kun, I'm Hanako Ayano," the woman replied as she turned around and resumed walking.

_That went better than expected_, Hinata thought as he slowly walked down the corridor; his feet producing faint creaks from the hardwood floor as he walked. The house seemed very homely and... oddly welcoming to him, from the lingering smell of a meal to the soft sunlight filtering in through the curtains, if he didn't know better, he'd have thought that he lived here. He momentarily supressed his thoughts as he came upon a door to his right_. I guess this is it_. Without a moment of hesitation, he twisted the doorknob and gently pushed open the door. To say that he was taken aback by the sight that greeted him would have been an understatement. A bright, pale light shone through the translucent rose curtains, illuminating the room in a soft glow. The room was somewhat plain, the walls where pale beige color with green patterns on them. The hardwood flooring matched the rest of the house, or at least the parts of it he's seen so far. A television sat on a piece of furniture on one end of the room and a small shelf on the opposite side had a number of plushies resting on it. The shelf was right beside a peculiarly large bed. It was only after a few moments that he noticed the bed was occupied by a girl. He had difficulty erasing the subtle look of surprise from his face as she turned her head towards him, her eyes meeting his; her beautiful fuschia eyes, seeming to almost bore into his very soul. She had pale skin that reminded him of the winter's soft snow and the hair that partially obscured her face and pooled on the pillow below was the color of roses during spring. Hinata didn't realize he was staring until the girl spoke up in a soft tone.

"H-hi, I'm Yui."


	6. My Angel

**Hello readers! Nyanotic here, and I'm back with chapter six. I think a lot of you readers have been waiting for this one. On a side note, this chapter is a bit longer than usual, I hope you don't mind. I didn't want to make this one a two-parter so I tried to condense what was in my head into one chapter. On another side note, next chapter we meet more of the cast :D:D:D.**

**Without further ado..**

* * *

**Angel Beats After Story: A Second Chance**

**Chapter 6: My Angel**

The alarm clock on the table by the bed spoke in shrill rings as it screamed at the current occupant of the bed beside it to awaken and greet the new day. Yuzuru Otonashi stirred as the incessant rings of his alarm pierced his ears, the clock's digital screen displaying the numbers _08:15_ in a bright green color. _Five more minutes. Just... five more minutes_. The ringing seemed to ignore his wishes as it continued its cacophony of noise. As he realized he won't be able to return to the sweet embrace of sleep, he reached out with his right hand, swatting the table a few times before finally hitting the large button atop the alarm clock, silencing it. _That's better._ He blearily opened his eyes as he returned his arm to his side. The bright morning sun's light diffused through the curtains currently shrouding the windows of his room. He sat up, his bedcovers sliding off his torso as he looked around the room he'd finally returned to after over a month. It was undoubtedly the room that he had lived in for years, but it had that strange unfamiliarity that one felt when having spent a prolonged amount of time away; this feeling, however, made it seem like it's been so much longer. He pushed the thought to the back of his head as he stood. He lived quite frugally; he didn't have the money for anything else. The only necessities that his relatives provided him with were food and a place to stay. Whatever meager earnings he received from his part time job went towards clothes, books, and his phone plan, anything extra; he spent on his sister. His room contained only his bed, a dresser with some clothes inside, and a desk with a notebook computer as well as some textbooks resting on it. As he was about to leave his room, though, he spotted his phone; he had set it to charge the night before as its battery had died quite a while ago. _Wow, that's a lot of missed calls._ He mentally reeled at the amount of notifications his phone displayed. _Looks like most are from Aiko, I should probably give her a call. Wait...what about the university? I already missed the entrance exam thanks to the whole incident; maybe I'd be able to work out something if I go and meet with the dean. Guess I'll have to schedule a visit._

The city seemed to come alive this Monday morning, the roads were clogged with the buzz of traffic and a cacophony of car horns as commuters scrambled to arrive at their jobs on time. Clouds littered the sky above the metropolis of offices, shops, and condominiums as the sun illuminated it fiercely and reflected off of the windows of hundreds of buildings. The traffic today, like most mornings, was congested, Yuzuru noticed as he sat on a seat near the back of a bus currently ankle deep in the aforementioned traffic. He sighed as he turned to stare out through the blemished bus window and noted that the sight had not changed in the least over the course of the past five minutes; cars filled the road in droves and pedestrians walked hurriedly along the crowded sidewalk bordering it. Most of the people he saw wore either light jackets or sweaters; the temperature outside wasn't high by any means, and it would only get colder. With the amount of people inside the bus, however, it was hot almost to the point of being stifling. He returned to staring blankly at the large orange envelope he had clutched in his arms; he had visited a local manga store on his way to the bus stop and picked up the latest volume of a manga he had never read before. The cover image caught his eye though; the colors were vibrant and he liked the illustration style as well, and he was certain that _she_ would like it too.

It felt like a while to him before the bus finally approached his destination. He noticed the hiss of the bus doors opening as the vehicle squealed to a heavy stop. He pulled his sweater tighter over himself as he departed the warmth of the bus, the cool outside air seemingly felt colder than it actually was. He looked up at the large building looming before him and heard the engine of the bus behind him grunt as the large vehicle drove off to rejoin the line of cars filling the street. _Well, I guess I'll go see her now,_ he thought to himself as he began walking towards the hospital that stood so vigilantly before him.

He took a deep breath as he stopped to stand in hesitation before the mint green door in front of him, the faint smell of antiseptics tickling his nose. Despite the amount of times he'd been here, he found it difficult to adjust to this smell; the scent of illness. As he stood listening to his own thoughts, he noticed the deafening silence permeating the wing, as if all life had drained out from it and only an empty husk remained. He supposed it wasn't strange; after all, there isn't much life to be had in the terminal illness ward. _Well standing around out here isn't going to accomplish anything, might as well just come in._

He raised his fist and lightly rapped on the door before pushing it open and stepping into the room. As the door shut behind him, the sole occupant of the room, a frail looking, young girl with pale skin sat upright in her bed and craned her head to the side to look at him; her fragile, hazel brown eyes observing him in a state of near-shock. As their gazes locked, a silence so thick that they could hear each other's heartbeats spread across the room. He wasn't sure how long they stayed that way; it was probably only a number of seconds but it felt so much longer to him. He had not seen her since before the incident in the subway tunnel. She was told he had fallen into a coma. Before he even realized it, his legs were carrying him towards her; one step, two steps at a time. He threw his arms around the small of her back as he embraced her tightly, uttering her name in a whisper; all the strength in his voice was lost. It was this action alone that almost startled her, bringing her out the trance-like state she was just in. He felt her body shake as she buried her head in the crook of his neck, her muffled sobs explaining her relief and joy in a way that words alone never would.

"Hatsune," he muttered through slightly trembling lips, a familiar stinging in his nose and lump in his throat making it somewhat difficult to speak, "I missed you so much."

That was the truth, as well. However hazy his memory of the time he'd spent in the dark, stale confines of the tunnel was, he was certain that he had spent more time thinking about his younger sister than the reality of his situation.

"I was s-so worried a-about you," she forced out in between sobs, "I w-was so scared y-you weren't gonna' c-come b-back."

He tightened his hold on her, pressing her against his chest; almost as if she would slip away into a cold, lonely world if he let go.

"I'll always come back Hatsune, so don't worry," he spoke reassuringly, "I promise, I'll always come back."

It was the fact that, it was not up to him whether or not he could keep that promise, which left a sour aftertaste in his mouth. But he would not leave her; he would not let her be alone. He would stay by her side and he would move heaven and earth to do so.

After a while of neither one of them moving, his sister had finally regained her composure and calmed down enough to peel her face of his shoulder and look at him with slightly red, puffy eyes.

"So when did you get discharged," she asked with a faint smile tracing her lips as she pulled away from him slightly.

"Just yesterday," he replied, "I actually wanted to go see you yesterday evening, but I wasn't sure when the visiting hours end."

"Are you sure you're ok," she asked him hesitantly.

"Probably, I mean I feel fine. The doctor said that I've mostly recovered in the time since the accident anyway, so I don't think I really have anything to worry about," he confirmed. "Oh, by the way, I almost forgot; I got you something." As he spoke, he reached for the envelope that he had left on the table on his way in. He walked back over to his sister and handed over the large, orange envelope that was clenched in his outstretched hand, "here, I was a bit worried that you had nothing to read so I went out and picked this up on my way here." He could see her slightly tear up again as she accepted the envelope gingerly. With a few practiced strokes, she had opened the flap and removed the book within. Her eyes lit up as she flashed him a bright smile; a smile that felt almost out of place. "Thank you, onii-san."

She opened the manga and began reading silently while he leaned in to sit shoulder-to-shoulder with her. This was how they remained, in comfortable silence. It was how these visits progressed most of the time. She would dive into the illustrated worlds contained within the pages and he would sit and watch. Like all families had their own ways of bonding and spending time together, they had theirs. Their small family of two that would try their best to ignore the clock that ticked down to the day it would be reduced to a family of only one. They were content with ignoring it, however, as long as they could continue to spend these precious moments together like this.

The long, black hand on the wall-mounted clock in the room had almost completed a full rotation before Yuzuru stood, stretching his slightly stiff arms. He turned to look at his sister who lay on the bed beside him. She had fallen asleep a couple of minutes ago; her eyes closed and her breaths even as the open book lay patiently on her lap. He leaned in close to her head and tenderly pecked her cheek with his lips and spoke in a whisper, "I'll see you soon, Hatsune."

* * *

"So, Thursday at four," Yuzuru inquired into the cell pressed against his ear as he stood at the bus stop, occasional gusts of wind stealing away the dried leaves scattered across the ground. "Yes... yes I'll be there at four then." Yuzuru brought the phone away from his ear and tapped the red button, disconnecting the call. The lady with the bored, business-like tone that he just spoke to was one of the secretaries at the university's head office, and he had just finished scheduling an appointment with the dean. _Life really does enjoy throwing wrenches into your plans, doesn't it_, Yuzuru thought melancholically as he thought of the entrance exam, the one that he had missed countless hours of sleep studying for, and the one that he had missed by almost a month. _Nothing I can do about it now, complaining isn't going to change anything either._

It was another five minutes before the bus arrived at the stop.

Yuzuru took the same seat that he took on the way here; it was the seat by the window at the rearmost row. For the first time in a while, the day was still young and he was already tired; it was probably due to the coma. He leaned his head back against the seat, the steady thrum of the engine was oddly comforting; it was almost lulling him into a dreamlike calm. His mind suddenly flashed back to the morning, to the amount of missed calls and messages he'd received over the past month. "Crap, I should call her now; let her now I'm awake," he muttered to the window on his right, "knowing her, she's probably worrying far too much about me." He donned a wan smile as he started typing a message. Once finished, he looked over it once then tapped the 'send' button.

[To: Aiko

Subject: no subject

Hey, so I finally woke up yesterday and was discharged since I'm pretty much fine. I noticed that you called me a bunch of times a while back, I thought I'd let you know that everything's fine and that... well I'm back.]

He had barely time to push the cell back into his pocket before he felt it vibrate in his hand. _Wow, she's fast. Hold on, isn't she supposed to be at work right now._ A warm smile graced his face as he read the contents of her reply.

[From: Aiko

Subject: re: no subject

OMG YUZURU-SENPAI, YOU'RE ALIVE! :D:D:D I WAS SOO WORRIED!]

He could almost imagine her jumping in place and squealing as she typed. He found it slightly unnerving how well her bubbly and exuberant nature carried over any method of communication she used.

[To: Aiko

Subject: re: re: no subject

Relax Aiko; you think I'd kick the bucket that easily? The injuries weren't really even that bad. See, no need to worry. :P]

[From: Aiko

Subject: re: re: re: no subject

You actually had me really worried, ya know. The doc said that it was a lot worse than you're making it out to be. Are you seriously alright?]

[To: Aiko

Subject: Work

Aiko, I'm fine, seriously. By the way, could you tell your old man that I'd like to come back in starting tomorrow or the day after?]

[From: Aiko

Subject: re: Work

Are you crazy? You just woke up from a coma yesterday and you already want to go back to work? You need to rest, you know.]

[To: Aiko

Subject: re: re: Work

I need to make money somehow, tuition isn't going to pay for itself and I'd rather not accumulate more debt than I have to.]

There was a short pause before he received her reply.

[From: Aiko

Subject: re: re: re: Work

Life sure gets complicated, doesn't it? Fine, I'll tell him. Anyway, I got to go. I'll ttyl, we both know he hates when I'm texting on the job.]

Knowing what the end of a conversation looks like, he pocketed his phone and spared a glance out the window that he was currently leaning against. Judging by the scenery, he guessed that the bus was about halfway back to his destination. It would have been much faster to just take the subway but he had decided against it. It wasn't because the whole incident a month ago had traumatized him, he didn't feel that way; at the time, he had accepted it. However, even with all the pressure and attention on the organization that runs the subway, even with the recent additions by the organization to the structural integrity of the subway lines, such an incident could still happen again and lady luck might not by watch over him so vigilantly. For now he would be careful, at least until he reached the goal that he had set for himself not so long ago.

* * *

That night, as he lay asleep in his bed, Yuzuru Otonashi dreamed of a struggle; a struggle in an ethereal place, and one that he fought through alongside close friends that he would spend eternities with. He then dreamed of a new world, one that surfaced above the previous one and buried it in a thick, hazy mist. A new world that was teeming with life, of those more than willing to tempt fate. A new world and another life. A life that only spoke to its predecessor in this peculiar dreamscape. A new life. He awoke at the crack of dawn with no recollection of the dream that plagued him throughout the night.

* * *

An hour later, he found himself walking down a quiet road to the songs of the morning's birds and a chilling, late-autumn breeze. The crisp air filled his lungs with each breath as his steps provided an awkward rhythm for the broken melodies of the songbirds. Today would be the first day that he'd see Aiko since the incident that hospitalized him. They both worked a morning shift today. Aiko was a girl that he had met when he started working at the small-time cafe. She was just about average in almost every respect. She had medium length, jet black hair which she often wore in a ponytail and deep, chocolate colored eyes. She liked to wear thigh high socks along with her uniform and had a small charm constantly dangling from her smartphone. Her parents own the shop where she helps by running the counter. He had been something of a regular, and the family was slightly surprised when one day he ordered an expresso with a side of 'are you hiring'. He found that he had become friends with Aiko rather quickly. She was younger than him and attended the local high school; a second year. Her most notable feature, however, was her attitude. She was energetic to say the least; she was bubbly, full of life, and shone brightly even on the darkest of days. Sometimes, he thought that it was only superficial; if it was, however, he had not once seen through it.

Some several minutes later, he stood before the quiet, small time coffee shop where he worked part-time; the earthy-brown sign above the door read _Expresso Bean_ in fancy roman lettering. Upon entering, he hardly had time to look around before a small figure barreled into him, wrapping its arms around him tightly.

"Yuzuru-senpai," the figure, who he now recognized as Aiko, exclaimed loudly, "you're back!"

Taken aback slightly, he returned the impromptu embrace and replied, "It's nice to see you too, and it's been a while. By the way, you might want to tone it down a little; I think you're distracting the customers."

She glanced back towards the few occupied seats and a warm blush spread across her cheeks as she noticed more than a few people glancing in their direction.

"I missed you though," he spoke into the queer sort of silence that descended upon them, almost in a whisper. Her blush only seemed to darken, it seemed. The rest of the morning progressed, for the most part, like any other.

* * *

"This is a lot more tiring than I remember it being," Yuzuru sighed as he leaned back against the counter.

Aiko giggled, "Why don't you call it a day then, you look a bit worn out."

"I think I will," he admitted, "I'll come in again tomorrow, how does that sound?"

"It sounds great," she said with a smile, "thanks for the help. By the way, tell Hatsune I said 'hi'."

"Sure thing, see you later."

* * *

He thought about the weather as he walked along the street. The cold, dry air numbed the tips of his fingers and ears as he walked. Each breath he exhaled formed small translucent puffs in front of his face as stray, colorful leaves glided by him occasionally. Dull, ashen clouds now covered most of the sky, painting its vast expanse a flat grey color. The midday sun barely peaked out over the cusp of one of the many large clouds, casting its broken rays across the city. The streets were more crowded than they were in the morning but were by no means packed. He listened to the sounds of his surrounding as he walked towards the nearest bus stop, the ambience was pleasant. He heard the whispering of the wind, the occasional hum of a motor vehicle, a faint whining sound of a passenger plane passing overhead reached his ears.

_Hmm-mm m-hm mm-mmn._

The faint humming of a sweet, familiar melody drew his attention.

_Mn-hn hmm._

He drew his head up, his gaze landing upon an angel; an apt description. The beautiful girl wore a white dress and hat that complimented her pale skin and rosy lips. She had long, silky silver hair that flowed down her back and shone, catching light at odd angles. She almost seemed to capture the sun's sparse rays, radiating them back out in a fragile brilliance. He could almost imagine an ornate halo of gold suspended above the crown of her head and large, feathered wings sprouting from back. Her eyes were closed as she leaned back against a wall, continuing to hum a melody he remembered faintly but couldn't name. He almost hadn't noticed that his walk had slowed to nothing and he now stood before her.

_Hmm-mm, hmm-mn._

He didn't want to interrupt her, but he wanted to know where the melody was from and, for some odd reason, just had an urge to at least talk to her.

"Excuse me, miss," he spoke, startling her a little, "this is a bit of an odd question but, that song you were just humming, what's it called?"

After regaining her composure, she seemed to think for several seconds before she offered a curt reply in a very timid voice, "I don't know."

_How is it that you remember the melody of a song and not the name,_ he thought to himself.

"I see," he stated, "by the way, you look familiar. Have we met?"

_That was such a weird question, why did I ask her that?_

"I don't think so. I don't remember meeting you before," she admitted with little intonation in her voice.

There was a short pause in their somewhat awkward conversation before he decided to end it, "well, I should probably get going."

He turned on his heel but before he could take a step, the girl spoke up again, albeit rather timidly. "Wait! Uhm... would you happen to know how to get the hospital by public transportation; I'm a bit lost."

"Well isn't that an odd coincidence, I happen to be on my way there right now. You can tag along, if you want," he offered.

The girl looked relieved; tension seemed to ease out of her shoulders as she replied, "I think I will. Thank you, uhm..."

"It's Yuzuru Otonashi," he said, understanding that she was looking for a name.

"Thank you, Otonashi-san."

"Please," he stated in slight embarrassment, "call me Yuzuru; I don't care much for formalities. By the way, I didn't catch your name?"

"It's Kanade Tachibana. It's nice to meet you, Yuzuru-san," she smiled.

* * *

**Edit: Minor rewording.**


End file.
